Page 158 of One Hellish Desire

I nod, “Yes, I want to see the work progress.” Then I remember, “When is Preet's wedding?”

“Next Monday. We have to fly to Udaipur to attend it.”

“I'm aware. I'll ask Ajay to book our tickets,” I assure her.

“Perfect,” she smiles.

Maahi rises on her toes and places a warm kiss on my cheek. The simple gesture is enough to reignite my desire for her. She wipes the wetness from my skin, her fingers lingering longer than necessary.

“I still can't believe you're here for me,” she murmurs, her eyes shining.

I pull her wrist and bite her finger gently making her yelp.

“Now do you believe?” I ask. “That I’m here?”

“Smart.” Maahi chuckles pinching my cheeks.

“Now go,” I say, my voice husky, “before I drag you back to the car and take you home.”

I pat her lower back, gently pushing her towards the boutique. She smiles, waving once before disappearing inside. I slide my sunglasses on and get back in the car, heading for Devki Estate.

By the time I arrive and park, my phone beeps with a message from Maahi:

'Missing you already.'

A smile spreads across my face as I read her words. I'm about to reply when Shukla, the manager of Devki Estate, approaches to greet me. Reluctantly, I pocket my phone and turn my attention to the construction progress, my thoughts still lingering on Maahi.

MAAHI

I glance at my phone for the hundredth time. It's been an hour since I messaged Prince Pompous that I was missing him, and still no reply. Typical arrogance, I think, though a smile tugs at my lips. Leaning back in my chair, I push away the designs I've been working on. It's hard to focus when he's so close, yet not here.

But isn't this why he came to India? So I could work without the distraction of our long-distance relationship? I have to respect that. Sighing, I pull the papers back, determined to continue my designs.

Suddenly, my phone rings. It's Meera aunty’s call. My heart skips a beat – it's not even morning in New York yet. Is this an emergency?

“Hello?” I answer, my voice trembling slightly.

“You... you must be happy... aren't you?” Her voice is slurred.

I close my eyes, realization dawning. “Are you drunk, Mom-in-law?”

“Shut up!” she groans. “Don't you call me that... You snatched my son, Maahi... I'll never forgive you for that.”

I should have seen this coming. Of course, Meera aunty would lash out, knowing her son followed me here. But I never expected her to do it while intoxicated. I recall Vikram mentioning she hasn't been answering his calls since he arrived in India.

“You'll never be happy... you hear that?” she continues, her words piercing my heart.

“How can you say that?” I protest, tears welling up. “Vikram is your son. How can you wish for our unhappiness?”

“You broke my home...” she shouts.

“I didn't break your home, Mom-in-law,” I say, trying to keep my voice steady. “I'm sorry Vikram followed me here, but it was his decision. If it were up to me, I'd never separate a son from his parents. I'm an orphan – I know how precious parents are.”

She falls silent, but my tears continue to fall. Meera aunty has succeeded in ruining my mood. I can't blame her for being upset, but her words feel like a curse on our future happiness – something I can't bear.

“We'll talk another time when you're sober, Mom-in-law,” I say softly. “Please get some rest.”

I end the call before she can argue further, my mind whirling. Am I truly becoming a second Meera Singh Grover, tearing a son away from his mother? The thought terrifies me. I desperately hope not, but the seed of doubt has been planted, threatening to take root in my heart.

---